


Third Time

by barryolivers



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barryolivers/pseuds/barryolivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His palms are sweating as he wipes them on his jeans. The scenario is so familiar, and yet it's so unknown. Oliver feels as though he should know what's coming, a part of him screaming it at him. A scream so far away it's a whisper. His mind is hazy, as is his vision, a white glow around it as he walks. It's so desolate, even his own breathing scares him. That was another thing. Oliver was scared. Apprehensive. He'd never felt like this before. He could sense it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time

His palms are sweating as he wipes them on his jeans. The scenario is so familiar, and yet it's so unknown. Oliver feels as though he should know what's coming, a part of him screaming it at him. A scream so far away it's a whisper. His mind is hazy, as is his vision, a white glow around it as he walks. It's so desolate, even his own breathing scares him. That was another thing. Oliver was scared. Apprehensive. He'd never felt like this before. He could sense it. Something was going to happen. Something bad. He didn't know why, his hands shaking as his breathing quickened. He was running. Swallowing thickly, he looked down. His legs were running of their own accord. He brought his hands into his vision, his trembling hands. He stared at them as if they weren't his own. They certainly didn't feel as though they were. He tried to count them, he could've sworn he read somewhere that if you have more than five fingers on your hand it wasn't real. _One, Two, Th-_

"Oliver?"

Oliver suddenly came to a halt. That voice-- It was impossible. 

"Oliver?"

They repeat, and Oliver looks from his hands. The counting can come later. The voice is muffled, as though it was underwater. 

"Oliver!" The voice breaks, sounds so scared. 

Oliver reaches out, his hand still trembling. "Tommy?" The voice that comes from his mouth is a hushed whisper, it breaking in all the right places.

"Save me." Tommy's voice is breathed, barely audible. Breaking as though in considerable pain.

"Tommy, I-" Oliver's hand touches his shoulder lightly, and suddenly Tommy's shirt has a seeping red patch in the middle. Oliver quickly recoils his hand.

"You should've saved me." Tommy's voice is staggered, and losing life with each word. "You could've. If you were faster." 

Oliver's lips tremble. He scorns himself. He can't be like this. He has to- "It should've been me."

"Yeah, that's right. It should've been."

Oliver swallows thickly. "I tried-- Tommy, please. I tried so hard."

"Not hard enough." 

Then Tommy was gone, and Oliver woke, sitting up fast chest heaving. There were dry tears on the skin of his face. He inhaled slowly through his nose.

That was the third time this week.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love Tommy Merlyn. He deserved so much better.


End file.
